


And your love is standing next to me

by velvetmornings



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Canon Compliant, M/M, Missing Scene, Unhappy Ending, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-16
Updated: 2018-12-16
Packaged: 2019-09-20 00:34:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,513
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17012148
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/velvetmornings/pseuds/velvetmornings
Summary: Keith and his unresolved feelings for Shiro.The Garrison Golden Boy was gone. Quick as a whip, streak in the sky, and boiled down to two words: Pilot. Error.Keith didn’t believe it. He didn’t believe it with every fiber of his being. But it didn’t matter. He had nothing to show for it.Nothing but dust and dog tags.





	1. Part one: Adam

**Author's Note:**

> The title is a lyric from the song Standing Next To Me by The Last Shadow Puppets.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The one where Shiro’s with Adam, and Keith is a pining, lovestruck idiot.

**Before the Kerberos Launch**

_The Garrison Golden Boys_ , they were called. Matt, Shiro, and Keith. It was a name spoken in reverence by officers who needed to state an example of what you _should_ be—of what you _could_ be. But it was also a name said in vehemence from the throats of cadets that spat it at Keith’s back when they thought he wasn’t listening. He always made sure they knew he was listening.

It wasn’t until the third, particularly bad scuffle, with a brown-haired cadet that couldn’t keep his mouth shut, that Shiro began to notice a pattern.

“So, what is this?”

“Excuse me?” Keith says, squinting up at Shiro. Proving to be a difficult task when he had his head tilted back in an attempt to stop his nosebleed. He had one of Shiro’s old shirts bunched up on his face as a buffer. It smelled like sweat, iron, and Shiro— _so_ much like Shiro it was intoxicating.

“Well, I’m just tired of playing the guessing game of ‘Why did Keith beat up James Griffin this time?’” They were in Shiro’s living quarters. The ones he shared with Adam.  

Keith scoffs, “Is that his name?”

“You don’t even know the name of the kid you regularly beat to a pulp?” Shiro asks, grabbing a chair, and plopping into it backward. He rests his chin on his arms and stares at Keith searchingly. Keith’s glad, in this moment, he can’t make eye contact with him. He’d break. 

“Yeah, sorry, I forgot to ask him for his business card before my left hook.”

A beat passes, and Keith almost hopes to God Shiro’s going to drop the subject all together. He doesn’t.

“Do you like him?” Shiro asks, matter-of-factly.

Keith can’t help but roll his eyes so hard he sees stars.

“No! I don’t _like_ him. I know I’m younger than you, Shiro. But I’m not in the third grade. Just because I’m mean to someone, doesn’t mean I like them.”

“Okay, okay!” Shiro says, raising his hands in surrender, “It was just a simple question.”

Keith doesn’t seem to understand that. Shiro can be so keen about things—Garrison’s star pilot after all. But hit him over the head with Keith’s unrelenting crush on the man and he might not even flinch. Absolutely oblivious in that regard, and maybe Keith was lucky for it.

That’s when Adam bursts into the room.

“God, Iverson has some damn nerve!” He stops in his tracks when he spots them—or rather, _squeaks_ in his tracks, his sneakers whining against the tile floor. He pulls his bag off of his shoulder and it unceremoniously drops to the floor in a thump. “Oh, Keith. I didn’t know you were making an appearance.”

His words sound polite on the surface, but there’s an edge to them that makes Keith move back from Shiro on reflex.

Adam has always been protective of Shiro from the start. Except _protective_ wasn’t the right word really—maybe _possessive_ was better.

“Hey, Adam,” Keith murmurs.

He doesn’t comment on the bloodied shirt on his face. Adam doesn’t ask.

Keith takes that as his cue to leave.

He moves to give the shirt back to Shiro, but it takes one look at the bloodied mess he’s made and to think perhaps it’d be better if he washed it first. Or kept it. He’s ruined it surely.

Adam walks over and pecks Shiro on the lips. He ruffles Keith’s hair as he passes. Keith knows, inherently, it’s supposed to be an innocent gesture, sweet even. But he can’t help but feel like it’s a threat.

“I have to go. See you later, Shiro,” Keith says, Shiro raises his eyebrows at the sudden farewell, but doesn’t question it, “Bye, Adam,” Keith mutters, as he makes his way toward the door.

Adam doesn’t spare him a backward glance and settles on giving him a half-hearted wave of his hand.

“I’ll talk to you later, Kogane,” Shiro says, rising to follow him to the door.

Keith only has the will to nod solemnly before the door clicks shut in his face.

-

The kid, Keith has now come to know is named James Griffin, strolls toward him with the confidence and bravado no 16 year old boy should possess.

“So, what is it with you and Shirogane,” he says, pink lips popping in defiance.

“What do you care?” Keith replies.

James grins at that.

“Maybe I don’t.”

They start dating a week later.

Keith wasn’t known for using people, he would say. It’s a safe assumption to make.

He wasn’t known for speaking to people _period._ But hell, was it easy to use Griffin.

It wasn’t until they had sat together in the Garrison dining hall, that he realized.

They weren’t using the tables for their God-given purpose and had instead opted to sit in the opposite direction—leaning against the sides of them like men ogling women at bars. _Oh, the irony._

Their food trays were strewn across laps and feet. Feet because Matt had thought it appropriate to prop his feet up on Keith’s lap, his tray balancing on Matt’s ankles.

James sat to the left of Keith, a fact he only knew because James’ hand lingered on Keith’s neck and shoulders, stroking there till it sent shivers down his spine.

But his eyes were trained at the entrance, waiting for a certain other Golden Boy to arrive, Adam in tow.

Matt had snapped aimlessly in front of his face, bringing Keith out of his trance.

And that’s when he knew.

He was in deep shit.

-

**Kerberos Launch Day**

Shiro claps a hand on Keith’s shoulder, going on about the mechanics of the ship and how he can see Keith piloting such a monstrosity one day.

But Keith doesn’t hear any of it, instead he focuses on the bit of Shiro’s hair swaying in the wind. He bites back the prickling behind his eyes as he comes to terms with the fact this might be the last time he ever sees Takashi Shirogane.

“...Right?” Shiro says suddenly. Keith knocks out of his reverie, but he can’t seem to hide the confusion on his face fast enough.

Shiro only looks at him for a moment before pulling him in an embrace.

“I’ll be back soon,” Shiro says.

They stay like that, and Keith conjures up all the mental strength to remember everything about this moment. From the smell of Shiro’s uniform pressed up against his cheek—equal parts sweat and cologne. To the feel of Shiro’s hands on his back as he pulls in just a little bit tighter.

He lets go and takes off.

Shiro’s gone with a streak in the sky, and muted applause from the minimal family members left on the launch pad.

And Adam is nowhere to be seen.

-

**After the Kerberos Launch**

Six weeks pass until he finally builds up the courage to break up with James.

“It’s fine,” was James’ only response. Keith can’t help the surprise that overcomes his face. He didn’t expect this. He had expected screaming and tears and anything but this. “There's a part of me that knew you weren’t all mine. Because there’s a part of you that’s always his.”

 _“I guess I was right,” Shiro had said to him one night. “You_ did _like him.”_ Him _meaning James._ Him _meaning not Shiro. He had smirked in that ever knowing way people do when vindicated._

_Keith had forced a smile so tight he’s surprised it didn't shatter his teeth right then._

_“Yeah... you were right.”_

Keith should’ve kept that part of himself, tightly woven. The part that was Shiro's. Because it rips out when he hears the news of Shiro’s disappearance months later.

The Garrison Golden Boy was gone. Quick as a whip, streak in the sky, and boiled down to two words: _Pilot. Error._

Keith didn’t believe it. He didn’t believe it with every fiber of his being.

But it didn’t matter. He had nothing to show for it.

Nothing but dust and dog tags.

-

It takes weeks before Keith can bear the sight of Shiro's memorial. Months before he attempts it—sneaking onto campus like he was exiled and excommunicated. And given his reputation since his expulsion, that's what it felt like. 

There was a shock of blond hair amongst the grey. It was Adam crouched over Shiro’s engraving, the flowers he had in his hand were shaking from what looked like tears racking his body.

A surge of rage rises in Keith. Adam didn’t deserve to be here. To be mourning Shiro the way that he was.

He finds himself propelling forward. He can’t stop this now.

“How dare you,” he spits. He can see the glare of Shiro’s picture on the memorial from where he’s standing. But it’s starting to blur from the tears welling up in his eyes.

Adam starts from where he’s crouched, coughing mid-sob to look up at Keith over his shoulder. “W-what?”

“You don’t get to do this _,_ ” Keith is yelling now, “You, of all people, don’t get to mourn. You let him _go_. And now he’s dead. You don’t get to mourn a person you had already chosen to give up.”

“Keith…” Adam says, rising from where he was crouched on the floor. Adam’s eyes harden and Keith suddenly regrets anytime he has ever spoken. “Takashi meant more to me than you will ever know. _You_ were just his charity case.” His words bite deep into his heart and stay there.

Surely Adam would know.

He’s been stuck to Shiro’s side in every one of Keith’s memories. Copilots to best friends to lovers. If anyone was Shiro’s confidante it was him.

It’s pathetic that Keith ever fooled himself into thinking he was anything more to Shiro. Anything more than this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you've gotten this far, thanks so much for reading!  
> This was meant to be a stand-alone and thus can be treated as such. You can proceed from here, but I do have to warn there’s no happy ending.  
> Regardless, please let me know what you think! Kudos, comment, tell me what you liked or disliked.  
> My sheith tumblr & twitter are both: _kittygane._ Feel free to follow me there. Much love x.


	2. Part two: Curtis

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The one where Shiro gets married, and Keith is his bitter best man.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **DISCLAIMER: This fic contains spoilers for season 8 of Voltron: Legendary Defender. Proceed with caution.**   
> 

It’s not the same but it’s not different either. Losing Shiro to death and marriage should be seas and leagues apart but it isn’t. It feels the same and Keith hates it. Losing Shiro to death was, in theory, permanent and irrevocable in a way that marriage isn’t. And he has to remind himself of that when Curtis and Shiro say their vows and put on their rings and kiss. But the void in Keith’s chest feels all too familiar, so he crosses his arms and bears through it. His mouth constantly hovering somewhere between a smile and a cringe.

Veronica notices first.

She becomes a constant, warm hand on Keith’s back that he has to remind himself is supposed to be reassuring.

“You alright?” She asks, warm breath near his ear. She reeks of champagne.

“Perfect,” Keith replies. He really does try for it not to come off as sarcastic—tries and fails. It’s his default setting.

“It’s okay if you’re not,” she says, swinging her champagne flute forward to take another sip, nearly spilling all of its contents.

“Why wouldn’t I be?” Keith asks, and then he does the one thing he knows he always shouldn’t when he’s upset. He opens his mouth again. “It’s my best friend’s wedding and I’m his best man. It’s the _best_ fucking day ever.”

Vero widens her eyes so much, it tilts her head forward and nearly makes her glasses slide off of her nose. She pushes them back up in one swift motion, but not before it clinks with the glass in her hand.

“And what makes you think I believe anything you’re saying.”

“You’re drunk,” he says, like that was explanation enough.

“But not high _,_ I’m not hallucinating. And you’re clearly upset.”

“What do you care?” He lounges further into the metal chair beneath him. It creeks as if it’ll pop and cave under his weight, which would be novel when he’s trying to play it cool.

“I know this may come as a shock to you but there are people out there that care about your well-being other than Takashi Shirogane.”

“I’m not even sure _he_ does.” Keith mumbles.

“What was that?” Veronica asks. And he’s not sure if she pretended not to hear, or if she honest-to-god, truly didn’t. But he silently thanks her all the same.

“Nothing.”

“C’mon, I want to show you something.” She stands, gesturing for him to follow. The reception has already started. People beginning to split off to talk in groups. No one pays them any mind.

They walk until the sounds of the reception are an afterthought—until they reach the MFE hangars and into the dimly lit rooms of the Atlas living quarters. Keith wonders what a slightly intoxicated Veronica plans to do with him here, but quickly dismisses the thought. She was deeply committed to Acxa, and Keith wasn’t planning on enduring the title of home wrecker anytime soon. With Veronica, or otherwise.

They reach what must be Veronica’s room because she makes a beeline to her desk, a data pad resting on its surface. The screen of the data pad lights up in her palm and Keith instinctively looks elsewhere. Private eyes and private things not meant for him and all of that, but Veronica pushes the device into his hands.

“I had a horrid crush on you,” she says, matter-of-factly. She has no hint of embarrassment in her voice, and Keith has to admire her for that. “But then Acxa came into my life.”

Keith only nods, not really knowing what to say. He finally looks at the data pad and realizes Vero is showing him drawings of him. _Her_ drawings of him.

The drawings are beautiful and elaborate. There are ones with different modifications to his hair. Up in braids, in ponytails, even one where it seemed she forgot to draw his hair all together. But beyond those, beyond everything, there's one that catches his eye in particular: It depicts him in the Atlas cafeteria, staring at Shiro from across the table, hearts in his eyes. His head plopped on one hand like a smitten schoolgirl. Shiro isn’t looking at him though. He’s animated, gesturing at Kinkade as if telling a story. Veronica sits besides Keith with heart eyes of her own. But they’re not aimed at Shiro.

He doesn’t know what it is. If it’s the drawing, the wedding, or the alcohol radiating off of Veronica and making him drunk via osmosis. But Keith starts crying.

He puts the data pad down, so as to not drop it as his vision starts to blur.

The devastation hits him in waves. It starts in his chest and moves outward, until it reaches his eyes and he has nothing left to do but let the tears stream down his cheeks. Hot and sticky and disgusting and _Shiro’s_.

“I love him, Veronica.” He chokes, not bothered to wipe his face as he feels the tears coalesce—combining to soak his shirt and his neck.

Veronica actually has the decency to look away as she picks up the data pad and turns it off, watching as the image fades to black as she does so.

“I know.”

And it’s not what he wants to hear.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you've gotten this far, thanks so much for reading!  
> As you can probably tell from the date of this publication this was somewhat of a therapeutic writing dump on my part. And although there's no happy ending, I truly hope you enjoyed it nonetheless.  
> Please let me know what you think! Kudos, comment, tell me what you liked or disliked.  
> My sheith tumblr & twitter are both: _kittygane._ Feel free to follow me there. Much love x.


End file.
